Tag: middle age woman

A Lonely Little Bee

“Our language has wisely sensed the two sides of being alone. It has created the word “loneliness” to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word “solitude” to express the glory of being alone.”
– Paul Tillich

I was reading a blog yesterday in which the writer was saying that she always could sense in herself when she wasn’t getting enough solitude. She felt edgy, snappy, frustrated and a little bit of almost crawling out of her skin. I love when I read something that I completely relate to, because I need solitude in the same way that the writer does and I have not been getting much of it lately, with the renovations going on in our home. I am trying to be my own little quiet island in the middle of a beehive, and it isn’t working so well. I wonder if a lot of writers crave solitude?

I have another friend who doesn’t seem to like being alone at all. Her life is the beehive and she is the Queen Bee. This friend seems to be always wanting to expand her beehive in all directions. I love having friends like her because when my self-imposed solitude turns to loneliness, I know that I always have someone to go out with, or to chat with. She is the busy bee in my life who knows all about the fun, public, social happenings going on and she’s usually in the center of it all.

I suppose the key is sensing in yourself when you are in a state of delicious, tranquil, meditative solitude versus despairing, paranoiac, angst-filled loneliness. The cure to my anxiety, when I am overstimulated and distracted, is to get to a place where I can bathe in my secluded, peaceful, solitude and the cure to my loneliness is the nearby buzzing of the beehive which seems always open for more energy and more expression.

“In loneliness I have no one but myself. In solitude I have God.” – anonymous

This Blog Post is Now Live!

Starting out on an aside, I write my blog on WordPress and when I press the Publish button, it says “The Title of Today’s Blog” is now live! That makes me feel so excited. It’s like I am on a production set or something. It’s often the accumulation of all the little special extras that can make a day in your life so grand.

One of my favorite Twitter feeds is called Think Smarter. Think Smarter posted this the other day: Please share the best lesson your life has taught you. So far.

Here are some of my favorite answers that rang true to me:

This too shall pass.

Your choices make you.

You are the architect of your own life.

Be patient.

There are always two sides to every story.

Know what matters.

Respect yourself, respect other people and they will respect you.

All actions and in-actions have consequences.

God has your back.

You are responsible for your own happiness.

Never give up.

Don’t judge a book by its cover.

Never buy a cheap frying pan.

Don’t take your health for granted.

God always has a better plan for you than you have for yourself.

Don’t piss in the wind.

Happiness is not outside. It’s inside.

Tough times don’t last, tough people do.

Your kids will follow your example, not your advice.

All of these rang true to me and have been proven to me again and again in my 48 years of life. I saved my favorite for last:

Everything happens for a reason. Someday it will make PERFECT sense.

Spice to Mashed Potatoes

Yesterday, I got out of my element. I drove a few hours away and I spent a beautiful day with a wonderful companion, with my two dogs in tow. We meandered through a beautiful garden setting, chatting and laughing with each other, and with other people we met along the way. It was a lovely day.

I used to be a bit better about giving myself to adventures. I would purposely seek out different neighborhoods to visit, different roads to travel and different perspectives to consider. As I’ve aged, I’ve noticed my anxiety level rises a little more than it used to, when I wander off my beaten path. I find my local turf to be more comfortable and more of my “go-to” experience than ever before. It’s kind of like that comfortable old pair of shoes that seem to get chosen to get worn every day, even with the shiny, new shoes, still in their box, sitting right next to the old worn ones. These new shoes are just begging to be tried out and to get their chance to become worn, and then worn out.

Yesterday was an excellent reminder that it’s fun to put on the shiny, new shoes sometimes and to step out of my box and its confines. Yesterday was refreshing. I felt very vibrant and alive. The old, well worn, comfortable shoes will always be there for me. In fact, I’ll be slipping them on today and probably wearing them most of the week. However, I’m going to make a point of trying out the shiny, new ones a little more than I have been doing lately. They may take me on to paths to places that I like so much, that these new places could expand my experience of who and what are, my people and my places of comfort. At the very least, these new paths will add a little spice to my mashed potatoes and gravy.

Dollar Store Staples

Over the weekend, I bought a few mylar balloons to decorate for my daughter’s birthday. I remember when mylar balloons first came on the scene. They were considered to be amazing and exotic and indulgent. They were considered a luxurious treat to have at a party. One of them probably cost around ten dollars. Now mylar balloons are Dollar Store staples and a given at any party.

It struck me that I have reached the age where I can recall when a lot of things were new and exciting additions to the market, that are now considered old fashioned and passe. These are things that the younger generations just take for granted. I remember when there was a Texas Instruments store in the mall, which was kind of like the Apple stores of today. My father treated me to a solar calculator. It was expensive and featured in the center of the store with a spotlight on it. They kept the solar calculator behind glass, like it was the Hope diamond. I am not exaggerating. Now solar calculators are also Dollar Store staples.

I remember my grandparents talking about remembering when they got their first telephones and their first televisions. They talked about an air conditioned car being considered a major luxury. I remember thinking, “Wow, they are really ancient people.” Now, kids today might think that about me, if they read this blog post. When walking on a seaside trail this weekend, my husband and I chuckled about how many babies in strollers we passed, all holding iPads. Some day, when these babies are my age, they’ll be talking about remembering playing with iPads in their cribs and strollers. And their kids and grandkids will laugh and scoff because iPads will probably be Dollar Store staples.

The Fine Line

“Kidding is when both people can laugh at the joke.” – Ellen Degeneres

There is always such a fine line that you hope that you don’t cross over when the teasing and the kidding starts up. I am a kidder and I have a huge tendency to put my foot in my mouth, but I try to be sensitive. I can’t stand roasts. I think that they are awful. I try to be calm and laugh politely at jokes aimed at myself, because I don’t want to be in the “She can dish it out, but she can’t take it,” camp. I think it is healthy to be able to laugh at yourself. However, kidding is touchy. Still, I’d hate a world without any ribbing and fun. I’ve heard that people only tease other people whom they really like. When I was a young girl, teasing was supposed to be a gauge of how well a boy liked you. The first little boy who ever asked me to “go with him”, pushed me into some bushes first, which of course, made everyone else laugh. Perhaps there is some truth to that statement.

My kids loved to watch SpongeBob SquarePants when they were younger and I honestly liked watching it with them, too. Two or three episodes stick out in my mind – Patrick deciding SpongeBob was probably ugly and that’s why he was repelling other creatures (it turns out it was just his bad breath) and SpongeBob learning to drive – both of these episodes can still make me laugh until I cry. The other episode that applies to this blog is when SpongeBob decides to become a stand-up comedian and he finds out that his audience loves squirrel jokes. The only problem with this is, that SpongeBob’s best friend is Sandy, the squirrel. Obviously, SpongeBob has to learn the hard way that making jokes at the expense of your friend’s feelings, may mean the loss of your friend.

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A Bluish-Black Butterfly

Today is my youngest child’s 15th birthday. She is our only daughter out of our four children. She is a gift from Heaven. She is a gift from our fourth baby, who came before her.

When you have a big family and the three eldest kids are boys, people just assume that we kept trying until we got a daughter. But that is not really the truth. You see, we were finished with our family after three kids. That was the number of kids that we had always planned on having. We felt very lucky and blessed to have three healthy, robust, energy-filled little boys who kept us very busy and on our toes.

The fourth time that I got pregnant, I was on the pill. (let’s just say that I am what is often called a “fertile Myrtle”) We had just moved to another city and another state for my husband’s job. We had left our family and friends behind and hadn’t quite found “our legs” yet, in our new place of living and being. My husband’s new company expected all of his waking hours and then some. (this was before work/life balance became a buzzword) So, I was a young, harried mother in what felt like a foreign land, trying to keep three little energizer boys corralled, while my husband was always working and here I was, pregnant again. This wasn’t like my other pregnancies. This wasn’t a planned pregnancy. I was devastated. So was my husband. Dejectedly, we tried to turn our heads and hearts around to this baby, considering him or her to be God’s plan, which I now realize was His plan, but just not in the way that I expected the plan to go. I started my vitamins and I started going to the obstetrician, and I tried to feel happy when I saw the little flutter of the little baby’s heartbeat. But I was tired. I was lonely. I was overwhelmed. It was right after the first trimester of my fourth pregnancy, right after we had told everyone that we had another baby on the way, that I started bleeding profusely. We lost our fourth baby when I was about 14 weeks pregnant. The doctor scheduled the D&C at a little country hospital because all of the large hospitals were full that day. That, in itself, turned out to be part of God’s plan too, because the nurse attending to me felt like she was an angel sent from God. She had all the right words, she took the time to hold me and she let me cry and cry. That nurse understood how painful a miscarriage really is for a woman. She understood the loss, and she was patient with my denial, when I kept saying that I think that we should do just one more ultrasound, just to be sure. I sent her flowers after I recovered at home. I don’t remember her name, but I will always remember her heart and her kindness. And her wings.

I had a really hard time getting over my miscarriage. I came from an “old school” background where I was taught that miscarriages were probably really disguised blessings, because there was likely something “wrong” with the baby. Yet, I had so many mixed feelings. Having started the pregnancy so apathetically, I felt so guilty and so ashamed. I felt like I was being punished. I tried to focus on the blessing of our three young sons. I felt a compassion for women who had multiple losses and long struggles of trying to get pregnant, like I never had before. I was so, so sad – sadder than I had ever been in my life. I felt a sadness that was so deep that I sometimes thought I would just sink into it and then, the only thing that kept me going, was the sense of duty I felt to my family. My husband had scheduled a vasectomy, like we had agreed, when I was still pregnant. At that time, we felt like we couldn’t afford or deal with any more “surprises.” Still, we found reasons to cancel that appointment, and then reasons again to cancel the rescheduled appointment.

One day, after weeks and weeks of thoughtful, prayerful contemplation, I admitted to my husband that I didn’t think I would fully recover from this miscarriage, unless we had another baby. My heart was telling me that our fourth baby’s brief appearance in our lives, was on purpose. That baby was a messenger, telling us that our family was not complete. That baby’s purpose was to let us know, that our family needed one more baby. My husband felt my strong, earnest calling and he understood and he agreed. We got pregnant the first time that we tried again. And we were thrilled and excited and grateful from the get-go, with this new pregnancy. We were so excited for another baby, boy or girl, it didn’t matter!

On March 23, 2004, our beautiful daughter entered our lives and our family was made complete. She has been such a blessing of joy, and beauty and wonder and excited energy from the minute she was born. She is exactly what our family needed, a mighty, strong, yet feminine touch. Our daughter is the beautiful, excited exclamation point at the end of the statement, that describes our family. Her middle name is “Faith.”

Whenever all six members of my family are on a trip, or hiking a trail, or just hanging out in the yard, I often see a bluish-black butterfly. My heart smiles a little and I usually whisper, “Hi, baby.” I think that our fourth baby’s spirit likes to flutter by sometimes and hang out with the family. He or she is a very special part of our creation and I’m so happy to know that he or she is still a part of us, helping to guide us through life. He or she is an excellent guide.

“I’m Sorry, That’s Incorrect.”

“Happy Friday! Here’s to all of us who made it through another week of faking adulthood.” – Nanea Hoffman

“Every Friday, I like to high five myself for getting through another week on little more than caffeine, will power, and inappropriate humor.”- Nanea Hoffman

Happy Friday!!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!!! New readers, I don’t do deep thoughts on Friday. I keep it light and list three “anythings” that I really like and recommend for you to try. Please check out previous Friday posts for other “favorites” and please add some favorites in the Comments section, as I’m always looking for “new favorites.”

As I was pondering my favorites, I thought of a woman I worked with once, who had a funny little idiosyncrasy. Whenever I would express an opinion, such as, “That’s a lovely shade of blue,” she would answer, “Correct.” (kind of like Alex Trebek) She never said, “Incorrect,” that I can remember. I didn’t know her well enough nor did I think that it was my place to “correct” her grammar and to explain the difference between opinions and facts, with only facts truly being able to be “correct or incorrect.” Further, she seemed to think that my opinions were “correct” a lot of the time and I liked that fact. Anyway, this is just a long way of saying that the items that I recommend on Fridays are just my opinion and it’s worth a try, to see if I am “correct” (in your opinion) about what is good. Here we go:

Forza Mirror (Z Gallerie) – I just bought this gorgeous, big, round mirror for the hall bathroom that we had remodeled. I LOVE it! It is huge and detailed and beveled and silver. I love that it adds a modern, glitzy look to an otherwise classic style room/cabinetry. It seems like a little taste of Miami flash on an otherwise preppy, traditional outfit. It’s like that fabulous favorite belt that brings together the whole outfit. Candy for the eyes!

Too Faced Sun Bunny Bronzer – I live in Florida. I’m supposed to look tan all of the time, but at the same time having an “actual, sun-imposed tan” is frowned upon. (On an aside, my friend and I were giggling shamefully about our younger years when the only sunscreen we applied was Baby Oil. She said that she added a little iodine in hers, for color. Then we would fry, get blisters, peel and tell ourselves that it would soon “turn to tan.” Thank goodness for progress in skincare.) Anyway, this is my favorite bronzer. It looks natural, not too orange and I like its name, “Sun Bunny.”

TUT – Notes from the Universe – I have been getting these “Notes from the Universe” in my email for years now. They are so inspiring and uplifting and I think that the founder of TUT, Mike Dooley, is an excellent spiritual teacher. Let me share today’s note:

“Think of someone very, very special to you.

Now feel yourself bursting with love for them.

Now mentally shower, drench and soak them in all that love.

Now mentally shower, drench and soak yourself in My love.

Cascades,

The Universe”

You are loved, my dear readers, more than you could ever know! Drench yourself in my love, your family’s love, your friends’ love, your dog’s love, God’s love, and have a great weekend, you, love sponge, you!!! And this is fact, absolutely CORRECT, FACT!!!

aO

It’s a Feminine Saturday

Yesterday I made a point of saying “Happy International Women’s Day!” to every woman I came across. I was having routine bloodwork done and the woman at the lab and I, did a little dance together after I said it. My clerk at the Walgreens gave me extra coupons as we smiled at the proclamation, celebrating us. My barista at Starbucks gave me a high-five and told me that they were only playing female recording artists’ music all day. She said that she was going to try to negotiate with the manager to keep that going for the week. My daughter and I hugged when I gave her a funky little string of pink flamingo lights. It was a lot of fun and camaraderie!

I got to thinking, “Why aren’t we women this supportive of each other all of the time?” Sure, we’re nice to our friends and family, but then we seem to eye other women suspiciously. It feels like our competitive hackles come up more than they do when we are with men. It seems like we are quicker to judge and to mistrust and to blame other women for things than we do to men. I’ve mentioned this before, but in my first “real” job after college, I asked a female manager what was the hardest thing about being a woman in the work world and without hesitation, she said, “Other women.”

I hope with all of these movements going on, trying to progress society that we really make sure that we empower each other. I read a sign that said, “Empowered women, empower women.” I also saw one that said, “Real Queens fix each other’s crowns.” Yesterday, I really felt part of a sisterhood that went beyond the small circle of women in my life who I know and who I love. It felt really good. It felt right. It felt joyous. It felt like progression.

“There is a special place in hell for women who do not help other women.” – Madeline Albright

Show Me Yours

“Go and Rock Your Fabulous Oh So Feisty Self. It’s Feisty Friday. Own It!” – Feisty and I Know It

Hi friends!!! Happy Friday!!! Rabbit!! Rabbit!! Rabbit!! We keep it silly, stupid and delicious here at Adulting – Second Half, on Fridays. I typically list three items, websites, music sources, information sites, etc. that I find divine. Please check previous Friday postings for more favorites and as always, PLEASE add your own favorites to the Comments section. Please don’t hoard them to yourselves!! Sharing is caring. Here are my three for this Friday’s edition:

BUG ART greeting cards – These greeting cards are so beautiful, that I buy them with every intention of sending them and yet, I rarely do, because I can’t bear to part with them. I’ve even been known to frame some of them because they really are works of art. Most of the cards depict animals but in the most artistic, unusual, interesting of ways. I find mine at The Fresh Market grocery stores, but you can buy them online, as well. Bug out in a good way!! Feast for the eyes!!

Greenies Pill Pockets for dogs – Ralphie, our labrador retriever, got stung by some nasty thing Monday evening, and blew up like a balloon. Three steroid shots later and orders from the vet to give Ralphie fistfuls of Benadryl, made me buy yet another bag of Greenies Pill Pockets, which are lifesavers. We have been to the veterinarian so much in the last six months that my husband says that we’ve bought him a new car. It’s okay. We’ve got a great vet, our Ralphie is on the mend and Pill Pockets are the only way that I can get my dogs to take their meds. Every dog that we’ve ever shared our lives with, all seemed to have the special talent to separate pills from whatever cheese or meat I wrapped them up in, so that the pills would be unceremoniously spit back out on the floor, while the delicacy was devoured. This doesn’t happen with Greenies Pill Pockets. The whole treat with the meds stuck securely inside of it, seems to get devoured in one full swoop. They are lifesavers, literally!

Boudreaux’s Butt Paste – If you have a baby, a grandbaby, a sweaty, athletic teenage boy who has trouble with chafing, or a dog who swims so much that he’s always pink from chafing, you need to have a least one tube of this stuff. Nothing works better for the nasty rash that makes the above parties cry, lick excessively and/or walk funny. It seems to work in a day. It’s supposedly chemical free, but boy, does it do the trick! I buy it in bulk.

Okay, friends. I showed you mine. Now, you show me yours. Have a wonderful weekend!!!

Here She Comes

I have a passage from Victor Hugo’s Toilers of the Sea that I include in every sympathy card that I ever send. (which by the time you are in middle age, is unfortunately too many to count). It was sent to me by a friend when my beloved grandmother died and it brought me so much comfort. I am so happy when I pass it on, and others remark of the comfort that it has brought to them. I was reminded of this passage, by a friend, this weekend, who lost both of her beloved parents many years ago. It really speaks of dying, but after leaving a loving, warm, reunion atmosphere with my dear friends and coming home to a loving family, who were so excited to see me and to hear my stories and to share their weekend experiences with me, I thought to myself that the passage really applies in life, too. How fortunate we are, that so many of us travel between loving groups of people as we journey through our experience of Life. It’s like we have comforting rest spots and safe harbors, in the arms of people who know us and love us and only want safe passage for us, as we move along our paths of purpose. Here is the passage and may it bring you comfort and realization that we are not alone in our journeys:

“I am standing upon that foreshore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says “There! She’s gone!” “Gone where?” “Gone from my sight, that’s all.” She is just as large in mast and spar and hull as ever she was when she left my side; just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her destination. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at that moment when someone at my side says “There! She’s gone!” there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout “Here she comes!” And that is dying.”

And that is Life.